Make Me Over
by smellslikechidna
Summary: There are those who will do anything for love, and there are those who use love to get anything. [Saka, yaoi, japanese, ANGST, dark]


WARNING: V. dark. Much angst and it's been collecting dust on my hard-drive for way too long. Anyway – entails violence, death-type stuff and evilness. A lot of Rivalshipping, manipulation and evilness stuff involving Sato-kun.

'Celebrity skin' belongs to Hole, and Pokémon belongs to Nintendo.

I was well bored, too, so I used the Japanese names in this. I always thought of Richie as a manipulative little twat. Now he is for real! ^_^

Dedicated to everyone who has been screwed over by those they considered friends.

Make Me Over

        Scowling in the gloom, the shadow kept his shady, dark eyes on the T.V. with a frightening concentration that worried the small Pokémon on his lap to the point of whimpering. The figure kept his eyes, never wavering, from the figure on TV, on the video that he had paused. The figure glowered, angrily, as he saw the sickeningly happy smile on the TV's grinning face as the guy held two fingers into a victory pose and looped his arms around a red-headed girl who was looking at her boyfriend with such an adoring smile that it made the viewer want to be sick all over the floor.

        Still, the figure thought, as he twirled the glinting silver tube around in a soft cloth, it won't be long now, he thought. Not too long at all.

        And then he laughed.

_Oh make me over…_

_I'm all I wanna be_

I walk and study 

_In Demonology___

        Clouds marred the sun, which was suitingly ironic. Sitting in a shadow-cast corner of Sekiei Kougen, he twisted the barrel of the pistol around in his hands again, narrowing his eyes as he watched the second stage of the opening ceremony begin. A huge arena had been set up for a show jumping display, with fat rich people with flushed cheeks forcing young Rapidash over fences that were too high for them. The figure, keeping his eyes on the ceremony, gently, silently and stealthily slipped six small, metallic objects into the conveniently provided slots, complete and ready for the destruction their job entailed.

        The third stage began, with the allocated runner jogging leisurely into the stadium, torch held high above her head, and finally sprinting up the stairs to the giant torch, where she dropped the flames in, and the flare swallowed anything near it.

        The figure grinned, the base of his chin and lips illuminated in his shadowed position, as his mouth twisted into an evil smile, when he realised that his prey would be coming soon.

        "I-bui?"

        "Shoo, go on, Ibui, go!" he hissed, 

        "Buiiii!"

        "Iie! Go!" he scowled, turning his eyes from the fox-Pokémon and staring at the line of Trainers streaming into the stadium, fronted by the one man he came to destroy. "Satoshi-baka…" he hissed, He lined the miniscule sight of the pistol at the Pokémon Master's chest, and he said sorrowfully, "So foolish…"

_Hey, so glad you could make it_

_Yeah, now you really made it_

_Hey, so glad you could make it_

_Now…___

        He was like a hunter, he realised.

He had the perfect aim.

        His prey was in a perfect position.

        Now all he had to wait for was the perfect moment. The Pokémon Master, Pikachuu on his shoulder, waved to the crowd, and Shigeru tightened his hold on the trigger, but almost as soon as the moment came, it slipped out of his grasp, frustratingly and tauntingly. And just as the moment vanished, an irritated trilling burst from his pocket.

        "Shimatta!" he cursed, fumbling cautiously through his pockets until he found the small object he was looking for. "Hai," he barked, and then flinched at the quaver in his voice. Was he _that_ nervous?

        "Is it done yet?" a hauntingly familiar voice grated down the phone, sending a shiver down Shigeru's spine, and filling his heart with dread.

        "I-Iie, Hiro-san," he trembled, frightened at the fact that he was afraid of someone who was much younger than he, "Iie."

        "Doshite?"

        "I- I cannot find the right moment," he mumbled, softly. Hiroshi made a single hum down the phone, then replied in a soft tone, 

        "I suggest you _find_ a moment, and complete our bargain, hai?"

        "H-hai…"

        "Good…" He blew a kiss down the line "Aishite'ru, Shige-chan! Ja!" In a sudden about-face, Hiroshi turned from menacing to cheerful, and the phone line went dead. That was what was most frightening about Hiroshi – he could just… _change_ like that. And as much as Shigeru loved Hiroshi, there were still elements about him that…

        Another moment flashed by, the Pokémon Master was alone on the stage, making a speech about the competitions that infuriated Shigeru to the point that he wanted to pull the trigger there and then.

        He did.

        The bullet exploded and ripped itself from the silvery tube, tearing through the air at an unbelievable speed and shrieking through the screams of terrified people until it hit its target. 

        And with a growing horror at what he had just done and caused, Shigeru watched Satoshi fall from the podium to the floor, blood leaking from a gaping wound in his back and his friends trying to help – Takeshi trying to stop the blood flow and Kenji trying to keep Kasumi away until professionals came.

        And Shigeru watched as Pikachuu screamed "PIKAPI!" once, evoking a huge thunderbolt to strike her in the middle of the stadium, rocking the ground, as green ants raced around the scene and an ambulance was rushed over to the reddish ant, while the red ant's friends tried to help…

_Oh look in my face_

_My name is 'Might Have Been'_

_My name is 'Never Was'_

_My name's forgotten…___

        "Don't you feel better now, koi?" Hiroshi ran a slender hand through Shigeru's hair softly and tenderly, frowning when he felt him shudder slightly. "He is out of the way, like you wanted, Shige-koi. Isn't that what you wanted?"

        "H-hai… hai, Hiro-chan, but-"

        "But nothing. I have done the same for you." Shigeru's eyes widened when he remembered Hiroshi coming through the door one night, hands dressed in the crimson of Akira's blood… "It was what you wanted." He clarified again.

        "Hai, Hiro-chan, but…"

        Pressing a soft finger to Shigeru's lips, Hiroshi whispered, "No buts, Shigeru. What is done is done." His whisper was throaty and slight, as he claimed Shigeru's lips with his own, and led him in the direction of a more private room, leaving the news channel blaring on what had happened during that day.

        _"Pokémon Master Satoshi was gunned down today in a mystery attack during the opening ceremonies for this years Sekiei Kougen. Hospital executives are describing Satoshi-san's condition as 'critical'. Should anybody have information on the attack, they are asked to contact Junsa-san at Tokiwa Police Station. We will bring you more on this story as we receive it…"_

        The TV blared the same reports all through the night, and all over the country, but neither Hiroshi nor Shigeru were listening.

_Hey, so glad you could make it_

_Yeah, now you really made it_

_Hey, it's only us, but now…_

        Kasumi was sitting in shock on a hospital bench next to Kenji, who felt so awkward and so utterly helpless that he didn't know what to do with himself. Takeshi was talking to a doctor, trying to find out what had happened and how Satoshi was.

        Kasumi was pale, staring into space; she hadn't spoken since Satoshi was rushed into surgery seven hours ago, to try to save his life. 

        "Kasumi…?" said Kenji lightly; trying to talk to her, to get her to show a sign that she was in there somewhere. "Kasumi-kun?"

        She blinked, then turned blue and red eyes onto her friend, "Hai?" she whispered, her throat seeming too thick and choked for her to get any words out, 

        "He will be okay," Kenji reassured her, "Satoshi is a fighter, he will pull through." He noticed the tears building in her eyes, "Come here," he ordered softly, pulling her into an embrace as she sobbed into his shirt.

        "I love him, Kenji… Oh God, I love him…" she wailed, clawing at his chest with bitten nails, and Kenji quickly found himself crying too, until heavy footsteps and a sigh that could only be recognised as Takeshi's resounded, hauntingly, down the corridor, and Kenji furiously rubbed his own tears away. Kenji met Takeshi's tired eyes with his, and was answered with a frown.

        "He's still in surgery," he informed them, making Kasumi cry even harder. "They say it'll be a few hours at the least, then another twenty to forty-eight hours until they know for sure." Shaking his head, Takeshi sighed, sitting down on the hard, plastic seats, "Pikachuu is traumatised, according to Joi-san, and the rest of his Pokémon don't know what's happened yet."

        Resting his head in his hands, Takeshi stared at his palms. "No-one knows anything yet."

_When I wake up_

_In my make-up_

_It's too early for that dress_

_Wounded and faded_

_Somewhere in Hollywood_

_I'm glad I came here with your pound of flesh___

        "I'm a murderer…" murmured Shigeru to his reflection. "I killed the Pokémon Master… I'm an assassin…" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, checking to see if his face had changed in any way. Would people know if it was him? How would they know? Was he seen? Oh God, what had he done?

        "The only way people will know is if you stick a neon sign on your head saying 'I shot Satoshi-baka', Shige-koi." Hiroshi grinned, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, swinging the key in his hand. "Trying to lock me out, Shigeru? Don't you trust me to walk into the bathroom with you?"

        "Iie, it's n-not that, I just…"

        "Nani? Is this about Satoshi?" Hiroshi asked accusingly.

        "Iie! …h-hai… I… I shot someone yesterday… I… I killed someone… I…" Groaning, Shigeru dived to his knees, put his head firmly into the toilet bowl and didn't emerge until everything _in_ his stomach was _out_.

        "You removed something that _needed_ to be removed, Shige-koi. It was what you wanted. If Satoshi had had the chance, he would have done _exactly_ the same to you. He was planning to do that to you, and to your Ojii-chan, and to your sister…" Hiroshi wrapped his arms soothingly around Shigeru's shaking shoulders. "Besides, he hated you…

        And you hated him, remember…?"

        _Hai… I hated him… because he hated me. He didn't love me… so I killed him oh my God… what kind of monster am I…?_

_No second billing_

_Cuz you're a star now_

Oh, Cinderella, they aren't sluts like you 

_Beautiful garbage_

_Beautiful dresses_

_Can you stand up?_

_Or will you just fall down?___

        Kasumi had long cried herself to sleep, and was lying on the bench, covered by Takeshi's jacket. Kenji was watching her with a fondness that surprised even him, while he clutched at a coffee with shaking hands. Takeshi was staring at the floor, avoiding the gaze of anyone who sought it. Clearing his throat, Kenji spoke, "What did the doctors really say?" he asked, and when Takeshi glared at him, he back-pedalled, "I mean, I could see it in your eyes – you were holding something back from Kasumi, weren't you? What was it?" Takeshi's eyes took on a haunted glaze as he remembered exactly what the doctor had told him.  

        "The doctor… The doctor said that Satoshi-kun's spine had been shattered. Waist down." Kenji paled. "They're… they're trying to repair it but the doctor says it doesn't look good… If he survives the surgery, he'll never walk again, unless miracles do happen. He… he also lost a lot of blood, it's taking them a while to fix him b-because when they put more in, it goes straight out…"

        Kenji bowed his head to hide the tears that were building. He knew what that meant. Strong Satoshi, who liked to do everything by himself, would never walk, never do anything for himself again; have to rely on a nurse if Kasumi left, he wouldn't be allowed to train Pokémon again… More than likely, it would end up with Satoshi wishing he'd never woke up… if he _did_ wake up… "Who'd do something like this?" he mumbled softly, shaking his head softly.

        "Kenji-san? And Nibi Takeshi-san?" Both men nodded at the newly appeared Junsa standing near them. "And… Hanada Kasumi-san?" She looked pointedly at Kasumi's sleeping form. Takeshi nodded. "I know this is a difficult time for you, but I do have questions to ask…?"

_You better watch out_

_On what you wish for_

_You better be careful with _

_So much to die for_

        "_Satoshi, I hate you! You're such a baka! I wish you'd die right now!"_

_        " I hate you too, Shigeru. Just leave me alone!"_

_…_

_        "… Satoshi, you're such a loser. You'll never amount to anything; you should just give up now and go back to Masera. Although the whole town is ashamed to have you come from there anyway."_

_        "Shigeru-baka, shut up and leave us alone. Go back to the rock you crawled from – we don't want nor need you here."_

_        …_

_        "Shigeru… hold on!" _

_        …_

_        "He **needs** to be removed, Shige-koi. Won't you do this for me? After I did the same for you with Akira? You said yourself: You wanted hm dead. You wanted him out of your way."_

        "The only way people will know is if you stick a neon sign on your head saying 'I shot Satoshi-baka', Shige-koi."

        "He would have done **exactly** the same to you…"

        "Pokémon Master Satoshi is still in a critical condition in Tokiwa General Hospital after an attack at yesterday's opening ceremony for this years Sekiei Kougen…"

        Shigeru clutched the pistol tightly in his trembling hand, before slipping the barrel in between his lips cautiously, and padding his fingers around for the safety catch. 

        "I wouldn't, if I were you, Shigeru-baka. You don't want to make a mess of this lovely hotel bathroom, do you?"

        Shigeru choked, and Hiroshi waltzed over and slid the gun from his mouth with a frightening tenderness that unnerved Shigeru. "You don't want to leave me alone now, do you?" he asked, leaning his head on Shigeru's shoulder, "I don't want to be all alone" he murmured, drawing patterns with his finger over Shigeru's heart, frowning when Shigeru shuddered at the contact. "Do you love me? Geru-chan?" There was a _long_ pause, before Shigeru stuttered up "h-hai…" Hiroshi's eyes flashed dangerously.

        "You paused," he growled, "Why did you pause? You shouldn't have to pause, if you love me, you should have said it straight away."

        "I- I don't know… I _do_ love you, Hiro-koi, really-"

        He didn't get much further – Hiroshi's fist connected sharply with Shigeru's face, and those deep blue eyes Shigeru loved so much were narrowed in fury, as Hiroshi's handsome face was warped with fury and rage, before it twisted again into a sneer, "If you _really_ loved me, Shigeru, you would not have failed me yesterday. Satoshi would not still be alive in hospital." he growled, clenching his fists again, and smirking cruelly when he watched Shigeru cringe. "You failed me, Shigeru. You've failed everyone in your life, and you know that." He watched Shigeru open his mouth to protest then jumped down his throat, "You failed your Ojii-san, God rest his soul. You promised him you would be Masara's greatest Trainer, but you didn't, did you? Satoshi was. Then you promised him you would help out more at his lab, but Satoshi's friend Kenji is, isn't he?" Grinning triumphantly as he saw the tears building in Shigeru's eyes, he said quietly, "… and you failed me. You promised me you would get rid of Satoshi, yet he is still alive. After I went through so much trouble with Akira, you couldn't even do that for me. You are an utter failure, Ookido Shigeru. And for some unbelievable reason, I still love you. I'm probably the only person that could **ever** love you, don't you realise that? And then you turn around right here and say you don't love me."

        "Hi-Hiro-chan, I never said that-"

        "You didn't have to say it!" Hiroshi snapped, shoving a piece of brown hair out of his eyes furiously, "I could see it in your eyes, Shigeru." He bowed his head, feigning sorrow. "I saw it – you don't love me, Shigeru."

        "I- I do, Hiro-chan! I swear on Lugia, I do!" Hiroshi looked up, with mock hope written on his face, a charade Shigeru had yet to pick up on.

        "If you love me… would you do anything for me?" he asked shyly, peering through a mess of brown hair, looking a lot like he did when he was fifteen, and he and Shigeru had only just started dating.

        Shigeru nodded, "Anything, Hiroshi-koi." His face was serious until he felt something being pressed into his palm.

        "He is still in your way, and he is still in mine," No questions for who he meant. "Please, Shigeru. You told me you always wanted him out of your way. Show me how strong you can be."

_Hey, so glad you could make it_

_Yeah, now you really made it_

_Hey, it's only us, but now…_

The hospital atmosphere was choking to the point that Shigeru wanted to leave _now_, and never look back. He asked a nurse where he could find Satoshi, and frowned at her blank face until he prompted her with "He's the Pokémon Master."

        "Ah, hai, Satoshi, that Satoshi… Room 867. Are you a relative of his." Shigeru froze. Were they only letting family there? _Make an excuse, fake it, lie_. Hiroshi's voice echoed through his mind.

        "H-hai," he mumbled. "I'm his…" _brother? Uncle? Nephew? Friend…?_ "His cousin." stuttered Shigeru, "Ookido Shigeru." The nurse smiled.

        "Okay, Shigeru-san, take the elevator – eighth floor – ICU unit. I should warn you, though. He doesn't look pretty." Shigeru feigned a forced laugh.  

        "He never did, ma'am." The nurse beamed, and walked past, pushing the trolley of bedclothes towards the laundry that had a contrasting colour to the crisp whiteness, patting Shigeru's face as she passed.

        "You're a brave guy," she said kindly, "Satoshi-san is lucky to have such a strong cousin" She walked off, the trolley rattling along the floor. Shigeru found a convenient plant pot just in time.

        The elevator rise took forever, yet it was over too soon, and a computerized voice rang out "Eighth floor – Intensive Care and High Dependency Unit". Shigeru took a steeling gulp of air before stepping through the doors and into the white, clinical atmosphere of the ICU.

        Room 867 was the seventh room in the sixth block of rooms, and had the door opened at a crack, where a chink of shadow was falling from the door into the brightly lit corridor. He knocked gently on the door, with a soft greeting of "Ohayoo?" poking his head through, and reeling when he saw the completely unbelievable sight. The room was full to bursting with machinery and equipment that was connected to a life-support machine, which in turn was connected to a labyrinth of tubes that ended up poking into various parts of something, that could only have been Satoshi – the wild hair was a dead giveaway - that was lying on the bed on his side, tubes pouring from his mouth and nose, completely unconscious with his usually sparkling eyes lightly closed while a nurse fiddled about with the machines and wrote something on a chart. The only other figure in the room seemed to be asleep too, slumped over by Satoshi's head with a mass of crimson hair that could only belong to one person. He didn't now whether to go in or out: go into the same room as the person _he_ gunned down, and do what? Lie again, and say how sorry he was for what had happened and how much he hoped Junsa caught whoever did this? Or go in, and confess? The second option was more favourable to his morals- he snorted. What morals? All his morals went out of the window the minute he agreed to Hiroshi's threats and pressures.

        "Who are you? Look, sir, we don't need any trouble right now, I- _Shigeru_! What the _hell_ are you doing _here_?"

        Shigeru's head snapped around into the corridor and started into Takeshi's glaring, fatigued eyes. "I-I came… I came to see Satoshi-ba- I mean, I came to see Satoshi."

        Takeshi snorted angrily, "And to what do we owe this pleasure? Ookido Shigeru actually worrying about Satoshi? How many pigs flew today then?" He shook his head. "Satoshi isn't doing very well, as you can see. I'm sure the last thing he needs is for you to know that. He doesn't need you bitching about him while he's like this, so do us all a favour and leave." Shigeru noticed the obscenely tight grip he had over the trigger concealed in his pocket, and loosened his finger from around the small strip of metal. Eyes flashing, he scowled at Takeshi.

        "I came to see if he was alright. I came to, if he was awake, maybe resolve our differences, Takeshi_-san_." he spat, stressing the suffix with an excess of sarcasm. "I came to apologise to him." Takeshi snorted sardonically.

        "Like I said, how many pigs flew? I'm not letting you in there, so turn around, and _leave_. I wouldn't let you _near_ Satoshi while he's like this."

        "Who're you talking to – oh, um, hey Shigeru." Kenji walked up beside Takeshi, being polite only because Shigeru helped out in the lab a lot with Kenji. He turned to Takeshi. "What's the problem?"

        Takeshi snarled slightly, "Shigeru was just _leaving_."

        "Was I?" replied Shigeru infuriatingly, years of a defence system developed with Satoshi coming to power. "First I ever heard of that. Last time I checked, this was a _public_ hospital."

        Takeshi snarled, and looked ready to charge, until Kenji laid a calming hand on his shoulder, and asked Shigeru what he wanted. Pausing after Shigeru replied, Kenji said, "I guess it's okay," before shooting a warning glance to Takeshi, "But a warning. Don't bitch about him, don't say anything to no one about him, and for the love of Raikou, don't wake Kasumi. It took us an hour to get her to sleep again."

        "Hai."

        "What happened to your eye, by the way?"

        "My… eye?"

        Nodding, Kenji indicated the blooming purple blemish circling Shigeru's left eye where Hiroshi had struck him earlier. "It looks painful. How did you do that?"

        "Oh, I walked into a door," he replied breezily, ignoring Kenji's sceptical eyes, before slipping through the door and closing it delicately behind him.

_When I wake up_

_In my make-up_

_Have you ever felt so used up as this?_

_It's all so sugarless_

_Hooker waitress_

_Model actress_

Oh just go and eat less 

        The subway ride home was sickening. Feeling as though people's eyes were burning into him, staring at him, knowing what he had done to the Pokémon Master and he half expected various assorted Junsa to leap from the luggage bay, arrest him and march him straight to a convenient set of gallows, and breaking his neck as he dropped, to the triumphant glare and knowingly wry smiles of Hanako, Kasumi, Takeshi, Kenji and various other relatives and friends of Satoshi.

        His hand firmly kept in his pocket, he trailed his finger gently against the loaded barrel of the gun, counting six unused rounds easily, and relaxing slightly. He hadn't been able to do it. Satoshi had looked so innocent and almost kawaii that it had taken a lot of self-restraint not to hold his former enemy in his arms and apologise profusely and tearfully… The way he was just lying there, with bandages and dressings and stitches everywhere was so unreal, so unlike Satoshi. Satoshi was always outside, running or yelling or training or something else, never inside, and never lying down. It just didn't seem right to… to _kill_ someone so energetic, and as he left the room without some much of a 'sayonara' to Takeshi or Kenji, he wondered what in Rugia-Kami's name possessed him to do it. Then, as he stood in the elevator to go out of the hospital, he heard the doctor complaining on how he'd lost a certain amount on yen in the sweepstakes held over who was going to win, and the nurse at his side saying how tragic it was that the surgery had failed, and then a porter who got in on the next floor said that he'd heard about what happened, and wondered if Satoshi would be allowed back into the League. 

        The collective answer was a sharp, collective, depressed "No".

        Maybe Hiroshi would be satisfied with that. If Satoshi was no longer in the League, Hiroshi and Shigeru would be free to claim the top spot… then Shigeru paused. Hiroshi had a ruthless streak, Shigeru already knew that. Would that affect him? Hiroshi's ambition was even worse than his own, and even worse that Satoshi's was. Would Hiroshi make him his next victim? What if, at next year's Sekiei Kougen, Shigeru was the one with the bullet firmly embedded in his spine? Or worse, his heart? His head? 

        A different part of his consciousness, namely his heart, scolded him, told him not to be so stupid. You trust Hiro-koi, don't you?

        But then, Shigeru blinked, and winced as the swelling around his eye gave his heart the answer. How could he trust someone who would attack him like that? Hiroshi's ambition was devastating, destructive. Wouldn't Shigeru be fooling himself to trust Hiroshi? Hiroshi had already taken out Akira before last year's tournament and came second, beaten only by Satoshi. Hiro-koi had been so furious when that happened. How could he have lost to that baka? Every other time, he always, _always_ finished at least a round ahead of Sato-san, why had he failed? 

        And then, three weeks ago, he came through the door, saying about how he _had_ to win this year, waving a box around above his head. Excitedly and childishly, Shigeru had prised the box from his with eager hands, prising the lid away with his fingernails, and froze.

        He almost couldn't bear to go through the front door, knowing Hiroshi was inside. His doubts and fears about his koi had addled his mind to the point of hysteria, and now, the sight of the pretty, ornate blue door with the pink hanging basket outside was like something from a nightmare. The hall light flicked on, and Hiroshi stuck his kawaii brown head out of the door. 

        "Geru-chan? Is that you?"

        "…hai…"

        Chuckling, Hiroshi grabbed Shigeru by his sleeve and pulled him inside. "Is it over?" he asked, cheerfully, practically skipping into the kitchen, Shigeru being led behind.

        "In a way," came the nonchalant reply, and Hiroshi stopped.

        "What do you mean, 'in a way'?" He turned around, his voice dangerous, husky, and quiet. Shigeru looked at him, Dark eyes meeting turquoise, and smirked.

        "Satoshi will be paralysed for life. He will never be able to train Pokémon again, and no longer be allowed to compete in the Sekiei Kougen, because they don't allow people who can't walk. There was no point in finishing him off, because now we have no more competition." He smirked sardonically, "Isn't that right, darling?"

        Hiroshi looked at the floor for a moment, "I wanted him gone for good…" he murmured, before giving Shigeru a bright smile. "Oh well. I'm sure you tried. Come on, we have to check our opposition for next week – they announced the new dates about an hour ago."

        _Opposition…?_ Shigeru thought blindly, _what do you mean, 'opposition'?_

        He followed Hiroshi into the living room, where Hiroshi was poring over the Pokémon League website, trailing the mouse pointer slowly over the montage of faces that belonged to Hiroshi's opposition. "Haven't we shed enough blood already, Hiro-koi?" he asked softly, resting his hands on Hiroshi's shoulders. "Do we have to hurt others?"

        "Iie, Shigeru. This is what you want, isn't it? No-one to be in your way, ne? All I am doing is trying to help you."

        "By hurting others."

        "If they are in my- our way, yes."

        Shigeru scowled slightly, at where Hiroshi had circled the face of a novice, and said, "Your way? I thought you were helping me, not you." His head and logical thought took the back seat, fuelled by a primitive terror and panic that was innate in all humans and Pokémon alike. "Are you going to destroy me, too? Get rid of me like you did Akira? Just so you can be master and no-one else?! Are you going to gun me down like I did to Satoshi?!" his voice reached a crescendo, eyes flashing in the soft glow of the lamp and the computer screen. "I will _not_ allow you to do this to me," he growled.

        Hiroshi barely had a chance to protest, to promise he'd never do that to his koi, to even say "Aishite'ru" one more time.

_Honey Sunoco_

She's full of poison 

_She obliterated everything she kissed_

_Now she's fading_

Somewhere in Hollywood 

_I'm glad I came here with your pound of flesh_

        Shigeru smiled wryly at Hiroshi's dying form on the floor, watching his former koi's bleeding lips gasp out "…why?"

        Grinning sardonically, Shigeru blew the spiralling smoke from the barrel of the pistol like he was in the movies. "You were in my way, aoi hitomi." he replied as the light faded for the last time in Hiroshi's baby-blue eyes. "And now you're **out** of my way." His lips parted and he smirked wryly again, as he turned towards the door of their picturesque little house, and took a deep, steeling breath before saying:

_ (You want a part of me?_

_Well, I'm not selling cheap_

_No, I'm not selling cheap)_

"Isn't that what I wanted, Hiro-chan?"

[A/N] Man, I love depression. And angst.

And yes, this is crap, but I'm working through personal angst here. Be nice? ^^****


End file.
